Meanwhile Katelyn was unbelievably tall now,
her beautiful body being clad in
naught but a skimpy black thong
which showed off her more than
generous amount of ass-flesh; she
literally was a tower, dripping filth from every pore down to the
mortals below, when juxtaposed to
the pathetic town of Chatham.
Katelyn strode to the main street of
the pitiful town, each sexy step
showing off her long and delicious legs, while her flip-flop clad feet
sent shockwaves through the
cracking pavement of the streets.
Her feet made peoples eyes water
profusely and their stomachs retch
immediately the stench from her sweating feet, combined with her
rotten flip-flops were washing the
streets with an odor that was
beyond foul. People who tried to run away,
because they were too close to her
monolithic feet, were quickly and
nonchalantly snapped up by her
toes when she was merely taking a
step. Katelyn did not notice at all, and if she had wouldnt even care,
too far removed as she is from such
petty concerns of non-entities, as
the pitiful souls were slowly churned
apart and ground up in the foul,
toxic wasteland that was the area between her massive, sweating
toes, and her grime smeared soles
of her flip-flops. Before long, the
people had simply been turned into
indistinct piles of toe-jam, spilling
out of the grime and filth factory that are Katelyns feet and toes.
Forms that had once been people
had been so swiftly turned into
masses of toe-sludge, melted away
into a sea of sweat and toe-ooze
spouting from between the hideously foul valleys of each toe,
those areas that are completely
barren and devoid of mercy and
anything not suiting the continual
production of Katelyns all-
consuming, all-penetrant, foot by- products. Each one was now just a
shifting, morphic monument
composed of rotten sediments and
transmuted debris, dedicated to the
irresistable process that relieved
them of their pitiful mortal-coils, and brought them into harmony with
what they truely were merely
materials to be used and molded by
Katelyns divine body, as however
her moulding, halitosis-spewing feet
saw fit.
No consciousness of it was experienced by Katelyn herself
she dwells on a much higher plane,
too far removed from such trite
things, no the decision is relegated
to her raunchy, punishing feet the
mediators between a Goddess such as Katelyn and this lower world in
which we dwell, and a vessel to
enact her divine wrath upon the
worthless mites populating this
plane. Indiscriminate and merciless her feet
are, the reaper of a harvest, as
child, elderly, or any other was
sucked into the gravity of her cyclopean feet. The ones who managed to barely escape had no time to even scream at what was happening to their loved ones, so concerned they were at saving
themselves, and convinced to their
bones at the futility of trying to
save any who were chosen by the magnificent wisdom of Katelyns
filth-encrusted feet. And those were
snatched up barely had any time to
scream themselves, though many
managed to properly prepare
themselves as sacrifices by doing so, as they would quickly see others
who had only briefly arrived before
themselves being transformed by
this arch-odious, terrifying process
of abysmal stink and disgust. These
chosen ones would see their own fate happening before them, and
only milliseconds later be thrust
headfirst between Katelyns hungry
toes, expulsing fumes of
unimaginable stink from the
seemingly never ending process. They were then ritually cleansed by
being baptized completely in the
lakes of her tepid foot sweat, with
the air only being a medium to
transport the dank, humid
heaviness of Katelyns roving stench. Then, following the gyrating
motion of her earthshaking
footsteps, the anointed are hurled
into the deepest, slimiest recesses
of her toe-valleys, and literally line
the walls in that stinking-Sheol as the piles of toe jam, made from
others like themselves, surge and
froth beneath and above them,
piling into their open mouths in
answer to their wailing, quickly
obliterating them and any infantile notions they might have held of
escape.
The divine makes no mistake
the process could not be stopped
until Katelyn would perhaps
someday deign it to be so, if she
ever even could notice these pathetic whisps of flesh being
munched to pieces in the swampy-
hell of which her feet held absolute
dominion. Her feet literally drained
the people of color and life her
feet literally ate them alive and spit them back out as testaments to the awe-inspiring power of Katelyn Goodrich, as this was only a hint at
her true power, after all, if this was
a unconscious process on her part
(yet conscious for her magnificent and fiendish feet, which truly had a
consciousness of their own two
partners in crime) then imagine if
she was actually attempting to do
this, and focused all of her attention
upon it? The world would never smell the same again
But what was even worse smelling,
by far, was the series of seemingly
near-endless farts exploding from
Katelyns ass. One after the other
they sounded off in succession,
with each being more potent and raunchy than the last a
concatenation of frothy sounding
farts, wet and crackly at the same
time. People on the streets were
already vomitting from the now-
poisoned air, because Katelyns farts were displacing the once pure
mountain air with her bodies own
toxic by-products farts that were
hot and wet, the air slowly invading
peoples lungs and coating them
with an awful film of ass-gass.
Giantess World
